Too Many Faces
by Poisoned.Thorn
Summary: This was a job. She fixed the mask and improved it with every visit, but why didn't she see it, his eyes were always watching her movements, her smiles, the grimaces. Bane wanted to see beyond the painted face that she wore every day, a doll who's smile always hid the frown.
1. Prologue

**The Dark Knight Copyright to Christopher Nolan and Jonathan Nolan**

**Batman copyright to Bob Kane**

**This chapter is pretty much a prologish thing-a-ma-jig. HOT DAMN.**

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_"All eager-lipped I kissed the mouth of Death."_

Gwendolyn B. Bennett

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Thick callused fingers run along the metal grilling of the mask, the leather straps to hold the apparatus is soft and well worn after years of constant use. Sighing, the old man runs his fingers through his thin white hair; this is going to be a long night especially with Mordecai's guest's hard gaze. Those grey eyes only sharpen his sense's, one misplaced word or move will cost him his safety, however at this point he keeps forgetting to care, it must be his age. Hundreds of eyes watch from the walls, ghostly faces dressed in ribbons and silk. Every doll in Mordecai's shop plays as a witness to their meetings, this beast seems to be needing help more often than not. _Wonderful._

"It is going to take some time to fix, perhaps a day or so. Why must you be so brutal to her, you are truly one breath away from death, and _this_, this is the only thing stopping it." He places the mask on the table and reaches into a lower cabinet in his workshop table, never looking away from the man before him. He knows better. Once his son got involved with this _cause _Mordecai could do nothing but watch with the helplessness of a child, his family picked off one by one for a twisted ideal by one man.

"Time? Time is something I cannot waste Calfuray."

Taking a sharp intake of breath, the large framed man sits in the shops only comfortable piece of furniture, a sagging arm chair with a faint smell of diesel and pine. His knuckles are white from constantly clenching his fists. The I.V. in his arm pushes the morphine through his blood, which finally begins giving him a small comfort. "I'm quite certain that you will finish it tonight, or perhaps I will find someone else to assist me. Mr. Calfuray our business arrangement is simple enough, I gather you don't want to lose your shop, or your granddaughter" The younger man squeezes the bag of morphine in his large hand, he sighs deeply, enjoying the rush of relief like a caress from an old lover.

Mordecai stops moving, his breathing hitches in his throat, he looks down at his withered palms, the age spots mixing with the deep set wrinkles and scars. "Bane, I will finish this for you tonight and if you need to kill me after, fine. I will accept death into my arms like an old friend if it comes to that, but you will never see her; I'll make damn sure of it." Looking up his words lose meaning to the giant of a man, in Banes cold eyes is a fog brought on by the I.V. Mordecai put in his arm hours ago. "You probably can't hear me now." He touches Banes hand earning him a grunt of confusion. "Perhaps you placed your trust in the wrong person boy, just imagine how easy it would be to kill you right now, slip of a sharp tool, an air bubble in your I.V, it would be _so_ easy. I should just break your neck like you broke my son's, how would you feel about that."

Banes eyes leave the old man's face, it was impossible to decipher what he was saying, he did not care, and the pain seemed too close to spilling back into his body. The old man was proving to be a nuisance but he was then only connection he had to _her_. The shop proves to be far more interesting while sleep envelopes him, the sea of faces fade into one another, masks, so many, expressions, feelings, always waiting. Through the ghostly smiles, one doll apart from the others sits broken, hidden on a high shelf. The smallest fracture curves through her empty eyes, even the raven hair reminds him of her. It must have been a tiny twin the old man made for her when she was small. How appropriate, she was almost like it in every way, a type a perfection that is slowly chipping away.

The room sways and dreams stream through his mind.

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_Bane looks down at the pale woman curled against his chest, the wild mane of black curls soft and fragrant. She always smelled of diesel and something sweet, he could never put a name to it, but it always found a way to calm him. Stirring she looks up, her face expressionless, the eyes deep black orbs, wide and calculating. He wheezes a sigh through his mask and reaches for her, she instinctively moves away and sits up._

"_I-I shouldn't be here, damn-it I need to go home." Banes hand immediately snatches her arm and pulls her against him, she struggles, and a deep scowl pulls down the sides of her face, almost making a pout. Trying to pull away she bares her teeth in annoyance. "This was a mistake." The large man laughs and flips her over to pin her to the bed. In a fluid motion he enters her, with her eyes wide she wiggles beneath him arching her back with every thrust, sputtering curses and moans._

"_And what a beautiful mistake you are."_

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**If you see some mistakes I apologize, I'll go back to fix them when I'm not busy. Damn, got to say I love Banes character, so complex and fun to use. You'll find out the OC name later cause I roll like that. Reviews are love.**


	2. Dame de Raven

**Hey everyone thanks for the favs, follows, and reviews. This chapter is a little slow, if you don't find it slow then I'm just over critical. *shakes fist***

** I hope you enjoy, also, any questions by all means ask, but I'm not going to blurt out the entire story unless you get a few drinks in me, which you****cannot, so, HA.**

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"I know you are no child, but you need to behave as though you are just a no one, you require no words to get a job done and by doing so you are only seen as a shadow, as nothing. This is what will keep you alive every time."

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With her Grandfathers orders still fresh in her mind she stares into the sewers wide opening, a gaping wound deep and black. That isn't particularly inviting, but she waits in the rain. Gotham never brings sunny days, but by tonight a clear black sky will show every star, as if the rain never fell before, it was perfect. Lifting up her face to the weeping sky, she allows the cold water to flow past her coats hood and pool towards her neck.

"You're a woman." Stepping out from the shadows a young man points his gun casually to her place, his accent was light, making him seem colder. Scratching at his thin beard he waves her over to him. "You weren't what he was expecting; let's see what he has to say about this." Adjusting his gun strap the man moves the weapon out of his way and pulls out a piece of black fabric. "Can't allow you to run off and squeal to the police."

That's when the nerves kicked in, but she knows this was going to happen. _Just keep quiet, nod, work, then leave, nothing more_. Putting up a fight can only worsen things so she allows her escort to blindfold her, his hands are rough when they brush against her neck, he leans forward pulling her against his chest.

"A warning, if you step out of line, none of us will do a thing if he thinks you are incompetent. I for one have no problem watching him snap you in two." He moves a piece of her black hair from her cheek, smiling when he hears the shaky breath through her lips.

"I understand."

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The only sounds that came to her were rain trickling down pipes and stone, their footsteps filling the halls, confusing her, then the voices come, men shouting to one another, and rushing water. Her _friend_ takes a sharp right and pulls her onto metal steps, trying not to stumble, she hears the low breathing, deep, mechanical, my god it was practically a lullaby. However the voice that is bonded with it was another matter entirely.

"I asked for Alasdair Calfuray and you bring me a girl" the deep distorted voice is in front of her, she feels metal close to her nose, the smell of steel and a strangers sweat made her hold in a gasp for air. If she squinted her eyes just right under the blindfold she makes out a large figure. Her future employer does not hide his displeasure from her. "Does that old man think that I will just allow another to switch places with his grandson, take her back and bring me the man called Alasdair. I-" A wheeze of pain escapes the giant's lips.

"Bane-"

"Are you-?"

"Get the morphine-"

"Fuck, what's going on-"

"Sir, sir are you-."

_Bane, so he does have a name_. The atmosphere changes with the sudden panic, the tension disappearing, ripping off the blindfold she sees him, the large framed being that her grandfather hated, though his back is to her she knows his face. Actually, more so the mask, that mask always stayed with her, its functions, the shapes, and the weight. However now with Banes sharp intakes of breath it hisses with error.

"T-that old man did this purposely, I- I can't b-breathe-" Bane turns and looks at the petite creature staring at him. Everyone is running around, his men trying to put him on his bed, or ripping through his desk trying to find needles for his pain, the woman only watches with subtle curiosity. She knows. Without hesitation she reaches in her coat pocket and grabs his arm, quickly inserting the thin metal into a vain she pushes the sweet concoction into him, it takes but a moment to work. Basard steps to her and slaps her face, hard, breaking her lip.

"What the hell did you just do."

"Her job Basard."Bane almost ripped the mask off, it wasn't serving its purpose as it should, if anything it was now making it harder to breath, the thing itself has stopped working completely. Slipping the mask gently, the sudden air startles him. "Miss Caulfry is it? Mordecai told me he had a grandchild, never once did I believe you to be, well, it is unusual to hear a name that does not match the person."

Licking the blood Alasdair nods stiffly "I will admit my father hoped for a boy when I was born, but still found that name fitting for me." Stepping forward she helps the larger man to sit, the bed beneath him creaks in protest as he shifts his weight. She takes the mask and brings it to her own mouth taking a deep swallow of air. Nothing. Reaching back into her pocket one of bane's men grabs her arm and rips out the tools she was reaching for. "It's a flashlight." _Clearly this was the opportune moment to beat the man blood with a tiny metal cylinder shape item. _Alasdair rips her hand from him and back to the mask, turning it she immediately sees the problem, this is hardly anything to panic, but if a person can't seem to breath it can cause a good sense of urgency. Removing a thin empty vile from the masks front, she replaces it with one that contains a very fine powdery substance. _Just what the doctor ordered_. With the new part in place she hears the sudden hiss of escaping air, bringing the mask once more to her own mouth she breathes in. _Yes, it's perfect._

Bane watches her eyes flutter close in concentration, she then looks at him and places the mask gently in a henchman's awaiting hands. He tosses it casually to his boss. The action makes Alasdair tense up.

"What caused it to malfunction?" With the anger missing from Banes tone, it is smooth, Caribbean perhaps, but alluring with his words. It obviously explains the followers.

Five men watch her, their hands tight on their guns; she really was going to have to watch what she said, and to think that she thought she could go through this whole process silently. _Heh_. "The substance that mixes with the air when you breath was running far too low, from my knowledge and inspection it looks as though my grandfather decided to modify it in a way for it to shut down before becoming completely empty, saving it from further damage." She hesitates "My father would never have thought of it."

Basard moves closer to her bending down slightly "If your grandfather tried to mess with this to hurt our boss-"

"Do not create conclusions out of thin air Basard, though I do not particularly enjoy Mordecai, I know he would never twist Brandon's work, he dislikes our cause, but takes pride in his work. Besides, this is all that's left of his son" Bane positions the mask properly "This mask was his greatest piece all those years ago. Though one cannot help but wonder…"

"I don't really know…"

"Come now, I need a professional's point of view, unless you agree with my men's statement." Smiling the larger watches Alasdair look from man to man, her expression stone, she did not like to show much.

It would be so much simpler to shrug, but her grandfather; he was alone in his doll shop and has only her. _Stupid old man._ "Most probably to discipline your body, over time when the mask does this multiple times, the body will create a response before the shut down begins, thus reminding you of a replacing."

Banes nods, accepting her answer, though something told her he didn't care; he wanted a response to his underlying threat. Bowing her head slightly Alasdair takes a few steps away and places a small bag of the masks replenishment vials onto the bed.

"Put them in my hand." The command was curt.

Looking, Alasdair stares at the huge man, now standing she takes in his full height, the scars pattering his muscled body are well deserved, maps of his past endeavors. He walks to her, drinking in her dark eyes. "The vials, place them in my hand."

With his men watching, Alasdair leans back down to retrieve the bag, the task seemingly harder than the first time. What was it about this man, he poked at her like a kid would flip a beetle, just to see it struggle. Stepping closer she places the bag into the awaiting palm. "This should cover for a series of four months but-." She did not have time to react to Banes sudden action, nor when the bag hit the floor breaking the contents. He grabs her face and brings her closer, his fingers crushing her cheeks.

"How odd you are, cold, impassive, silent unless questioned. Like one of your grandfather's dolls or would you consider yourself more as a puppet?"

Even with the stinging words Alasdair did exactly what Bane implied, she stood silent. With her cheeks burning from the pressure and the ache in her legs from being on her tippy toes the words stayed in her throat like dry bread. Bane runs his thumb over her broken lip, smearing blood onto her chin.

"So quiet."

She shakes.

"Soulless, unfeeling-"

She clenches her teeth to keep from shouting.

"Is that what you are Miss Caulfry?"

God what was he doing to her, it can't be more than ten minutes she's been here and he is digging his finger into old wounds, festering, oozing wounds. She needs to scream now or in every passing moment it grows stronger, that or it was her breakfast wanting to come out. Some of the Hench men were smiling at her, not a single crease in their cheeks was friendly. They are being amused while Bane stripped her pain naked for them to see. One man laughs quietly.

"Just another one of your grandfather's toys he uses for his own gain, which is not exactly out of character for him-."

"I don't need words."

Her voice scares her, loud, clear through the pouted orifice attached to her face. Bane let her go, an eyebrow rose as if you say _oh look, it's alive, how peculiar_. The woman's finger finds its place at the coiled teeth of his mask.

"I don't need words for this work, if you wanted someone that would generate interesting conversation then maybe one of your _pets_ here would better suit you. That piece of equipment there is all I will speak of, anything else is completely out of my depth."

Basard covers his mouth, glancing between the two adults, Bane with his stony gaze and the woman with blood drying dark on her mouth and chin. She didn't really look like Brandon, the man always had a gypsy quality that Basard like, the Irish accent was always loud and thick, at times when the man got so excited about plans on weapons or other hobbies you couldn't understand him but laughed all the more by his enthusiasm. Bane had like him enough, the man had an unusual quality, something about the way he spoke, something the woman and he shared. A hard voice, full of bubbling emotion. But, Bane, he wasn't doing anything, just watching, understanding. It is a good sign.

"As I said before, I do not enjoy your grandfathers company, so I suppose your assistance is required." Moving to his desk he glances at his right hand man, Basard is smiling, he saw it to, the fire. He takes out a cell phone and tosses it to the woman.

"I expect you every month or when I see fit, I understand that you have your own talents in weapon design. That can be used to our advantage. I'll allow you to return home." Leading her to the steps to take her back to the entry way tunnel, Bane smiles within his mask. He finds her suspicion and rage mixing beneath her expression amusing. Even when she glances at his hand on the small of her back she will not move away, but her tight jaw, clenched hands, and stiff movements could only be noticed by a trained eye. Alasdair Caulfry did not like him, but will work for him to keep him alive, how curious. Basard walks behind them silent.

"That phone will stay with you at all hours; it is to be answered every time." Reaching the bottom he turns her roughly, the used air from his mask blows lightly against her face. "Every time." She nods and follows Basard into the blackness. Watching them leave, he looks down at his thumb, Alasdair's blood staining the skin. A henchmen walks to him, his lacer skin shines with a fresh sheen of sweat from the recent work.

"Sir, she will tell-"

Bane looks down on the henchmen, making the man turn away, realizing his sudden mistake, only a fool steps out of line. His leader always had his plans which he never shared, this moment is one. A low chuckle seeps from the metal grating of the mask.

"The woman is smart; it is unlikely she will make a mistake such as that- however." Bane touches the grating, thinking about the air filling his lungs that minutes ago she shared with him.

"Follow her, watch her, I want to know who she is outside these walls."

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**There are mistakes, again I apologize. I write when I have time, and sometimes I'm so tired that even the dumbest things slip by, mistake is human, to forgive is divine. Toodles!**

**Une poupée saigne par ruse larmes noir**


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